


Break-Force Club

by breadscraps



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5772967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breadscraps/pseuds/breadscraps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>One-of-a-kind orange and white Corgi causes trouble.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Bb-Ate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One-of-a-kind orange and white Corgi causes trouble.

               The sun hangs low in the sky, a luminous orb of warmth and hope. Poe Dameron walks beneath it, and his shadow walks beneath him. Even the darkened imitation is sprightly and full of life. It dances along the sidewalk, a cheerful companion to an equally enthusiastic stubby-legged corgi. The dog bounces around Poe’s feet, bright orange and white with sparkling eyes.

               “Watch it Bee!” Poe chides, laughing as the corgi darts between his legs and almost trips him. He switches his backpack to his other shoulder and sidesteps as Bee makes another run at his legs. “Quit it! Or I’ll put on your leash!” he scolds. Bee barks at him once and leaps up to lick at his fingers. Poe laughs and stops so he can crouch down and scruff the dog affectionately between the ears. “Yeah you know I’m full of shit,” he says gently. “You know I don’t even have a leash on me.”

               Bee shoves her muzzle in to Poe’s hands, eager for the attention. She makes a soft ‘whuf’ noise and shakes her entire backside to compensate for the fact that she has no tail to wag. Poe yelps when the dog bounces up to lick at his face. He pushes her away, wiping at the slobber with the sleeve of his jacket.

               Bee stops her assault suddenly. Her ears are perked, and her nose twitches. A curious whine hums in her little chest and she turns away from Poe.

               “Bee?” he queries, straightening as she trots away from him. “Hey girl, what do you smell?” he follows her down the street and glances worriedly at the winking sun. “Bee, we gotta get home. Come here girl!”

               Bee stops, staring intently toward a gas station on the corner of the street. She barks once, twice, and then growls. Poe’s gaze follows the determined point of her trembling nose. A small commotion in the shadow of the gas station building draws Poe’s attention. He frowns, brows knitted. With a tight jaw and stern expression he hoists his backpack and jogs forward.

               When he draws closer, Poe can make out five silhouettes. Four of them tower over the fifth. Poe vaguely recognizes the kid being intimidated, a freshman from his school—Ilenium High. Poe can only see the backs of the others, but two are wearing varsity jackets from Korriban High… because of course they are. Poe scowls, there always seemed to be one sort of scuffle or another happening between the rival schools.

               “Oi!” Poe shouts as he breaks his jog. The bullies turn to look at him and Poe immediately recognizes two. A tall girl, the captain of the Korriban football team. Poe can’t remember her first name, something with a ‘G’ or a ‘C’ maybe? Her last name is definitely Phasma though. She towers over Poe by at least two feet, has fierce eyes and sharply cropped white-blonde hair. Despite her fearsome appearance, Poe has eyes only for the other boy he recognizes—Ben Organa. It’s just like Poe’s luck to lead him straight in to an awkward confrontation with an old friend.

               Poe stops a few feet away from the group. The hand he has wrapped around the strap of his backpack is white knuckled. The other is curled in to a fist. Silence stretches between all of them, and pulls a terrible tension along with it. Poe is vividly aware that if a fight should occur, the odds would not favor him. So he shakes his fingers loose and pulls a grin on to his face.

               “Nothing to say?” he asks, “That’s okay, I don’t mind going first. What’s up, Ben?” he asks with forced levity. Ben doesn’t say anything. Phasma steps forward.

               “What do you want, Dameron?” she asks sharply. Poe raises his brows at her.

               “Just wondering if I could hang out with you guys,” he says. “You all look like you’re having _so_ much fun,” and he glances pointedly at the freshman. He looks rather shaken, and is clutching a drink and a bag of chips to his chest. Probably the older kids were trying to get him to give them up.

               “Look. This shorty just stole something from us,” Phasma says, “And we’d like it back.” Poe leans to look around Phasma and Ben toward the freshman.

               “I didn’t take anything!” he says. He is a terrible liar. Poe glances at his hands, one of them is curled in to a fist and tucked in to his armpit.

               Ben rounds on the thief suddenly and shouts with frightening intensity, “You liar!” The boy jumps with surprise, dropping his food and drink on the ground—along with something else that jingles in a way that chips and soda do not. Poe guesses it is small and metal.

               Before anyone can do anything, a small fluffy streak of white and orange dashes in out of nowhere to inhale the fallen food. The freshman crouches quickly to reach for whatever he had dropped, but it has already disappeared in to Bee’s stomach. He takes one wide-eyed look at Ben, and then bolts.

               Phasma and Ben both shout and jump toward the dog. Phasma aims a kick at the corgi.

               “HEY!” Poe yells, suddenly furious. He lunges forward to grab her arm and yank her back. “DON’T YOU TOUCH HER!” Bee lets out a yelp, and with a frantic scamper of paws she disappears in to the shadows. Phasma tears her arm out of Poe’s grasp and shoves him bodily to the ground. She makes as if to do something more, but one of the boys quickly puts a hand on her shoulder,

               “Woah!” he says. “That’s enough!”

               “The _dog_ ate the key!” Phasma said.

               “You didn’t have to kick her!” Poe says from the ground. The boy who had spoken up in his defense shoots him a look that says ‘shut up for God’s sake!’.

               “Come on,” Ben says, pulling at Phasma’s arm. “We’ll just find the dog and get the key.”

               “Don’t touch my dog!” Poe shouts. Ben just turns and walks away. Reluctantly, Phasma follows, and the fourth—utterly silent—bully follows her. The third boy lingers, looking between Poe and his retreating friends. After a moment he comes to a decision, and steps toward Poe. He offers a hand.

               Poe looks at it for a second, a slight frown on his face, and then takes it. The boy helps him off of the ground, and then seems unsure what to do next. So he just pats Poe awkwardly on the shoulder and then shoves his hands in his pockets.

               “Sorry about her,” the boy says, gesturing over his shoulder. “She’s…” he trails off.

               “Yeah,” Poe scowls in agreement. “Thanks.”

               “Don’t mention it.”

               “I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.”

               “Eighty-Seven,” the boy says, and then blinks as if surprised with himself. A blush colors his cheeks.

               “Come again?” Poe asks.

               “Sorry, that’s what—it’s my team number. We all sort of just use—doesn’t matter. Finn, my name is Finn.” He rubs at his face, embarrassed. Poe grins.

               “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just call you Finn.”

               “Yeah that’s fine,” Finn says with a smile. Poe clears his throat and gestures vaguely,

               “Well Finn, I have to uh… I have to find my dog before your friends do.”

               “Still can’t believe she ate the key,” Finn says with a short laugh. Poe stops mid-step and turns to face Finn again.

               “Yeah she eats everything,” he explains, and then curiosity gets the best of him and he asks, “What’s the key for?” Finn purses his lips together, and then nods toward the direction the dog disappeared.

               “Come on, I’ll tell you on the way. It would probably be best if you found your dog before the others do,” he says. Together the pair start to walk, eyes sweeping back and forth looking for any trace of the little dog. “What’s her name?” Finn asks.

               “Bee.”

               “Cute.”

               “Yeah, she’s adorable. Inhales everything that falls on the ground. Convenient for when you spill food on the floor in your house. Inconvenient when you drop things that are not food—like keys apparently,” Poe answers with a smile. “Bee!” he calls experimentally in to the night. The pair are silent for a second, waiting for a reply. Nothing comes. Poe can’t help but be a little disappointed, and it shows on his face.

               “We’ll find her,” Finn reassures gently. Poe looks over at him, a little surprised. “What is it?”

               “Nothing,” Poe says. “So what did Bee eat exactly? You said a key, but to what?” the sun had set almost completely now and it was getting hard to see. Poe pulled out his cell phone and switched on the flashlight. Finn followed suit.

               “I don’t know actually,” Finn said, “but that kid took it out of Ben’s pocket while we were in line at the gas station. Probably his house key or something.” Poe hums quietly, and then calls for Bee again. Silence again. A dark gloom settles over Poe.

               “She usually always comes,” he says quietly.

               “I’m sure she’s just spooked. Would she maybe go back to your house?” Finn asks. He rubs at his arms and shivers. Poe notices.

               “Cold?”

               “Didn’t expect to be out so late,” Finn says dismissively and plucks at his t-shirt. Poe unshoulders his backpack and shrugs out of his jacket.

               “What are you--? Dude, no it’s fine,” Finn says as Poe offers up his jacket.

               “It’s no big deal, I’ve got sleeves. You’re helping me look for Bee,” Poe holds out his jacket, insistent. Finn glances around and then takes it reluctantly. He shrugs it on. It fits him surprisingly well, and is still warm. It also smells nice, sort of like old lumber and campfires. Finn catches himself inhaling deeply. He quickly swings his arms, and passes the deep breath off as a stretching noise.

               “Thanks.”

               “Sure. Come on, we can check the dumpster behind Noodles & Co. and then maybe Jimmy Johns,” Poe suggested.

               “Do you usually find your dog in these places?” Finn asks with a furrowed brow. Poe lets out a laugh. The noise is easy and carefree. It makes Finn’s own lips curl slightly upward at the edges.

               “We pass by a lot of places on our walks. Those are her favorites.”

               “You just let her eat garbage?”

               “As if I could stop her? Have you _seen_ how fast she is?”

               “Her legs are like, four inches long,” Finn says.

               “That’s sixteen inches of pure speed,” Poe says seriously.

               “You could always keep her on a leash,” Finn suggests. Poe falls silent.

               “Yeah… I suppose I could,” he says very quietly after a moment. Finn shoots him a sympathetic look.

               “Come on. I’m sure she’s safe… in a uh… dumpster.” Poe looks over at him, smiling despite himself. “Yeah,” Finn says, “I know. It sounded better in my head.”


	2. Little Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey encounters a disturbance in the fence.

               Rey slides down the railing of the last flight of stairs. She leaps off the end and hits the ground running. Her footsteps echo loudly behind her, but do not quite drown out the shouting she’s fleeing from. She shoulders beyond the door and slams it shut behind her. She knows from experience that she won’t be followed. After a few minutes out of sight, she’s out of mind.

               The warmth of summer nights is long past. Fall is fast approaching, and the chill nips at Rey’s exposed skin. She pulls her bedraggled hoodie tighter around her, and tugs her scarf up to her nose. Out here at least she can pretend she is sniffling because of the cold.

               Rey walks aimlessly at first, simply desperate to get _away_. But quickly she starts looking at street and business signs. She is still a little unfamiliar with the area, but she’s learning quickly. Especially given the frequency with which she roams the streets.

               Rey curls her hand around a few crumpled bills in her right pocket. Her stomach growls. She glances around, pausing at an intersection to try and gain her bearings. She squints, trying to remember where she can get food. It’s late, and she isn’t sure what will be open. Vaguely Rey remembers reading an ‘Open 24 Hours’ sign in a window to a sandwich shop. She turns, glances each way across the empty street, and then jogs across it.

               Rey cuts quietly through a residential neighborhood, ducking through backyards and weaving around carefully sculpted hedges and lawn decorations. Motion catches her eye and halts her progress. She stops near a large tree and peers in to a window from afar. Warm lights illuminate the room within. A young boy is sitting at a table working on homework. A woman leans over the table next to him. Rey shrinks deeper in to her hoodie and turns away from the scene.

               One fence and a dense hedge row later, Rey recognizes the backside of the sandwich building she’s looking for. There’s just a chain-link fence to climb. Rey carefully scales the rusted fence, swings her legs over the top and then jumps to the ground. A sharp whine accompanies the rattle of metal on metal. The noise is so unexpected that Rey loses her footing as she lands. She manages not to twist her ankle, but does fall straight on her backside.

               “Ow,” she grumbles, and squints in the dark to try and locate the source of the noise. The fence rattles again, and another distressed whine cuts through the dark. “Hello—oh,” Rey says, finally locating the source. It’s a tiny dog. Its collar is caught on a stray wire from the fence. Rey crawls forward carefully and slowly. The dog sees her and barks, loud and frightened.

               Rey shushes it gently. “Calm down,” she commands, “I’m going to help.” She reaches forward to untangle the collar but hesitates when the dog growls. “Shush,” she says sternly, “Your collar is caught.” After a second of pause without any growling or barking, Rey is reasonably sure the dog won’t bite. She reaches forward and untwists the wire from around the collar. As she does, she twists the tag to read the inscription on it.

               “Bee?” Rey says. The dog’s ears perk at the name. “It’s late. You ought to be getting home.” Rey releases the collar, straightens, and then walks around to the front of the store. She stops with her hands on the push-bar of the door. She twists to look over her shoulder so she can see the little dog standing a short distance behind her. Rey frowns at it, and slowly enters the shop.

               The entire time Rey is ordering her sandwich and counting her precious bills and coins at the register, she can see the dog waiting outside the shop.

               “Cute dog,” the cashier says.

               “Hmm--? Oh. Yeah,” Rey answers distractedly.

               “Well behaved too. I wouldn’t trust mine to wait for me outside without tying it up.”

               “Oh, I’m… yeah,” Rey says uncertainly. The cashier doesn’t seem put off by Rey’s haphazard method of conversing.

               “Enjoy your food,” she says with a smile, “and here…” she crouches and pulls a small plastic baggie out from a fridge beneath the counter. She slides it across the counter toward Rey. “It’s extra lunchmeat, leftovers. We won’t be able to use it. Give it to your pup. It’ll just it thrown away otherwise.” Rey’s stomach growls audibly. The cashier laughs, “Enjoy your sandwich.” Rey nods, embarrassed by the loud grumblings of her stomach, and quickly turns away from the counter with her things.

               Rey considers eating inside the shop, but doesn’t feel comfortable under the expectant stare of the cashier _and_ the dog. So instead she pushes the door open with her hip. As soon as she’s outside, the little dog is pawing at her leg. Rey shakes it off and walks toward a nearby bench. As she sits, she notices that the dog lags behind a little. It’s walking with a slight limp. A pang of sympathy twists at Rey’s heart.

               “Don’t you know your way home, Bee?” she asks. The dog quirks its head upon hearing its name. It puts its front paws up on the bench and noses at the bag sitting in Rey’s lap. She smiles and smooths the mussed fur on its head. “Come on up,” she says and pats the bench next to her. The dog ‘whufs’ and shakes it’s back-end excitedly. It dances on its hind paws a little, but doesn’t hop up on the bench. “Up!” Rey repeats again. The dog barks at her. Rey rolls her eyes and leans over to lift the dog on to the bench beside her. It shoves its face immediately in to her sandwich bag.

               Rey makes a sharp noise of disapproval and shoves the dog back. It doesn’t resume its quest, but does pant eagerly. Rey considers the pack of extra lunchmeat in her bag. She could save it for herself later. Maybe tomorrow when she inevitably ran from the apartment again. She isn’t sure she’ll be able to scrounge up enough money for another late-night meal.

               After a second of consideration, Rey pulls the lunchmeat out of the bag and sets it down. The dog loudly and enthusiastically begins to eat. Rey starts to devour her own food with equal enthusiasm. Once Bee is finished with her meal she watches Rey like a hawk, waiting for any scraps to fall. But Rey finishes every last crumb, and even licks off the extra mayo from the sandwich wrapper once she’s done.

               “Sorry,” Rey says in response to Bee’s disappointed stare. The dog huffs and begins to snuffle around Rey’s lap searching for any missed morsels. Rey laughs and pets the little animal fondly. She snags the tags on the collar again, searching for any means of identifying the owner. There isn’t a phone number or an address. Just the little metal tag with ‘Bee’ stamped in to it.

               “No return address, huh? Yeah… me either,” she says, a little wistful. After a few moments of petting, Bee rearranges herself on Rey’s lap, demanding to be petted with both hands. Rey sits with the dog for a long time, content to pet the corgi just as the corgi is content to sit and be petted.

               After some time, Rey picks up Bee and sets her on the ground so that she can stand. It’s time for her to start heading back. She doesn’t fancy sleeping out in the chilly night. Rey shoves her garbage in to her pocket, and then looks down at Bee.

               “Uh… go home?” she says. The dog just looks up at her, disappointed that the petting has stopped. Rey takes a few experimental steps away. Bee doesn’t move. Rey takes a few more steps, then turns and continues to walk until she hears the patter of tiny paws. Rey stops and turns again just in time to see Bee limp to a halt. “You can’t come home with me,” Rey says, “Mrs. Carplucked won’t let any of us have pets.” She watches Bee shift her weight and lift one paw off of the ground. Rey groans and then crouches down. Bee scampers forward as fast as she can manage. Rey picks up the corgi and tucks her in to the front of her hoodie. “In the morning you go,” she says. Bee just looks up and licks Rey’s chin. She presses her lips together and strains her neck to escape the corgi’s tongue. “You’re welcome,” she says.


	3. Good Nights & Shit Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Finn exchange numbers. Bee and Rey exchange something else.

               “I think it’s time to call it. We probably aren’t gonna find her tonight,” Poe says. His voice carries a forced lightness in order to disguise his worry. “Plus if I stay out any later, my mum will probably call the cops to come looking for me,” he jokes. Finn laughs out of courtesy, but he’s disappointed too. For the last hour Poe had regaled him with tales of crazy things that his pet dog had done. ‘She either finds adventure, or she eats it’ is the way he put it. Finn rather enjoyed listening to Poe’s enthusiastic retellings, and had become quickly and unexpectedly attached to a dog he had barely begun to know. The storyteller himself isn’t so bad either.

               Poe, Finn has noticed, speaks with his hands. He tends to clap people on the shoulder when he gets excited. His smile and laugh that are undeniably infectious, and there’s a wholeness to him that makes him feel warm and genuine. It’s such a strange contrast to Finn’s usual interactions: where people tend to be guarded and aloof. The change of pace is refreshing.

               “Sorry about your dog. She might still be at your house waiting for you,” Finn offers optimistically. Poe nods, but doesn’t seem hopeful.

               “Probably not. There’s no leftover sandwiches for her there, just dry dog food. Thanks for helping me look though,” he says and turns to face Finn. “Can I have your phone number?” Finn blinks. He is slow to respond to the very forward question. Poe grins at him, “I mean in case you find Bee—or if I find your key. I’d like to be able to get a hold of you.”

               “Oh! Yeah!” Finn says in a rush, embarrassed. He fumbles with his phone and opens the ‘New Contact’ menu before handing it over to Poe. Afterward, Finn is too busy looking around or at his shoes to notice the slight tinge of pink in Poe’s cheeks that’s illuminated by the screen.

               Poe punches in his contact information and then hands the phone back to Finn.

               “Shoot me a text, so I know it’s you,” Poe says, and Finn diligently does just that. Poe swipes open the message when it arrives and reads…

—Unknown Number 9:09pm

It’s Finn

               “Cool,” Poe says, and saves the number. “Text me if you see my dog around,” and then he hesitates like he wants to say something more. “Thanks again,” he says, but Finn can tell the words are spoken in lieu of something else. Finn’s heartbeat is still a little quick from the ‘Can I have your number?’ incident, and it beats faster still as Poe turns his back.

               “Hey!” Finn says suddenly after Poe is a few steps away. He stops and glances over his shoulder. “Uh…” Finn says gracelessly. His mouth is still trying to catch up to his mind. “You can text me even if you don’t find the key,” he says with a shrug. “I mean… I’d like to know if you find your dog, and…” he trails off, leaving the ‘and’ open ended. Poe’s grin is slow and wide, and makes Finn want to smile right back.

               “Yeah okay,” he says. “I will. See you around Finn!”

               “See you around,” Finn answers. He has to turn and start walking away quickly—afraid that Poe will look over his shoulder and see the stupid grin on his face.

 

* * *

 

               Mornings are shit. At least that’s the general consensus Rey has drawn from years of morning experiences. Mornings mean it’s time to start yet another day of the same damn thing. So, given her track record, it isn’t unusual for her first thought after regaining consciousness to be ‘shit’. It is, however, unusual for her to mean the word in the literal sense.

               Rey wakes up and thinks ‘shit’ because something in the room stinks like dog shit… and that’s probably exactly what it is.

               “Bee?” she calls quietly, blinking her eyes open and pushing herself upright. Light filters in through the windows, dimly illuminating the small, cluttered room. Rey is awake and alert almost immediately. First she looks to make sure her door is still closed—it is. Next she looks around for the corgi. She spots it in the corner, a tiny trembling orange and white ball. Her ears are flattened on top of her bowed head. She is pointedly ignoring the reason for her cowering.

               It’s easy enough to locate the source of the smell. The visual clue of ‘look-everywhere-except-there’ that Bee gives along with the odiferous nature of the offender provides enough information for Rey to pinpoint the culprit. Rey groans and flops back on her bed momentarily. It’s her fault. When she adopted a dog for the night, she didn’t think about where it would go to the bathroom. A dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do.

               Rey shoves her hands in to the pockets of her hoodie and retrieves the plastic sandwich bag from the previous night. She gets out of bed, expertly navigates the mess without a sound, and leans over the pile of poo with a sour expression. Bee scampers under the bed as Rey passes, and lets out a small whine of apology. Rey notes, with grumbled and reluctant appreciation, that Bee at least had the decency to defecate on the bare floor and not a pile of clothes. Rey puts her hand in the bag like a glove, picks up the waste, and inverts the plastic quickly before tying it off.

               As she’s finishing the knot, Rey freezes. Some sixth sense sets off an alarm in the back of her head and puts her on high alert. She holds her breath and strains her senses, and after a second of tension she hears it: the creak of floorboards down the hall. Rey doesn’t waste a second of precious time. She spins around toward the window. As she does, she uses her feet to shove clothes in front of her bed to make a fabric wall to discourage Bee from emerging. Rey throws the latch on the window, yanks it up, and sets the bag on the sill outside just around the wall so it’s out of sight. In the same moment she is turning back to face the door of her room, and trying to steady her breathing.

               As the door swings open, a cool mask settles on Rey’s face. She quickly drops her eyes. A heavyset woman stands in her doorway with her hands propped on her hips. A permanent glower is etched in to her face, and it deepens she surveys the room. Rey knows she can smell _the smell_.

               “Good morning Mrs. Carplucked,” Rey mumbles to the floor. The woman looks up and squints at Rey as if the young girl is more distasteful than the foul smell.

               “Why’s that window open, girl?”

               “Airing out the room,” Rey explains. From the corner of her eye she can see Bee moving slowly toward the edge of her bed. The curious little corgi peers quietly out from behind a wall of dirty clothes. Rey picks her gaze up from the floor to look at her guardian. The eye contact prompts Mrs. Carplucked to raise her brows in mild surprise. Her frown deepens further, but she does not continue to inspect the room. Bee’s existence remains a tenuous secret.

               “Close it. It’s getting cold out and you don’t pay for heating,” she commands. A tiny part of Rey roars on the inside that yes, yes she does pay for heating—or at least, the money the government provides to the families of foster children does. Rey carefully contains that roar, and instead turns around to close the window. “And clean this room, it’s a junkyard. No meals until I can see the floor,” Mrs. Carplucked says, and then exits. She pulls the door closed behind her.

               Rey lets out a breath and turns back around once the window is closed. She leans against the sill and lets the back of her head hit the cool glass. After a second of stilling her fast-beating heart, Rey looks over her messy room. She wonders exactly how it’s possible for her to clean it. She doesn’t have a dresser, just a low bedframe, an old wobbly nightstand, a child-sized desk, and a single wall-mounted shelf. There’s nowhere to put clothes except on the floor.

               Rey slides down the wall on to the ground, and uses a foot to clear a path for Bee to escape. The corgi gently walks over and plops itself directly on Rey’s lap. She sits there, big amber eyes glowing with apologetic sympathy. Something fractures in Rey when she looks in to those eyes. An overwhelming wave of hopelessness and loneliness sweeps over the young girl, and this stubby legged dog just rests her head on Rey’s chest and gives her permission to _feel._ Rey bites back a sob, and hugs Bee tightly. She desperately reigns in her hitched breathing.

               Bee waits patiently until Rey has recovered some of her calmness. The corgi licks at Rey’s cheeks until she pulls away, sputtering and wiping away dog slobber with her sleeve. Rey pushes herself to her feet and looks around the room. She considers the ultimatum ‘No floor, no food’ and then looks over at Bee. Rey is certain the consequences for housing the tiny orange and white fugitive will be worse than the consequences fora messy room. She's no stranger to hunger. Cleaning can wait.

               Rey sifts around the floor searching for less dirty clothes. She changes quickly and picks up a backpack. She pulls some fast food wrappers and socks out of it, and then turns to face Bee. After a few minutes of wrestling, she manages to get the corgi tucked inside. Bee snuffs unhappily as she zips the flap shut.

               “Sorry,” she whispers, “It’s just until we get outside.” Bee ‘whuff’s, shuffles, and then settles after Rey carefully slips the pack over both of her shoulders. She stands at her door for a few seconds, listening, and opens it a crack to peer out in to the hall. The TV is on in the other room. A chorus of forced audience laughter peals through the air, and Rey uses it to mask the sound of her footsteps. Before the next poorly conceived daytime television joke can incite a second round of fake amusement, Rey is down the stairs and out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written anything, so why not get back in to the swing of things with a dumb Highschool AU? Am I sure what the endgame is for this fic? Not really. Am I going to write at least a couple chapters of my favorite Star Wars characters in cheesy high school situations? Definitely.


End file.
